Collin's Secret
by Quills.Ink.and.Parchment
Summary: Spencer Smyth is a muggle, Collin Creevey's best friend but only because Collin is the only person who will be friends with someone so snotty and rich. One day at Collin's, Spencer finds a photograph and its moving!Don't want to reveal too much!Please R
1. Drippy Popsicles

_Chapter 1_

It was hot, scorching even. So hot that outside Collin Creevey's bedroom window, I could hear Mrs. Creevey's geraniums wilting under the sun. I turned away from the window and glanced at my surrondings. Collin's room was quite dark, there were curtains on the windows and inside the room there were no lights on. Collin kept it this way so he could develop his photographs, though strangely enough Collin had not shown me any of his photographs that he had taken at school.

The east wall of Collin's room was covered in book shelves, which had photo albums on every shelf. I glanced at the spines of a couple of the albums. Towards the end of the shelf a scarlet and gold one caught my eye. It was the only one that did not have a title in gold script down the spine. Curious, I took it down from its place on the crowded shelf. As I opened the heavy album, I heard footsteps coming down the hall towards me. Quickly I shoved the book back into its place on the shelf and sprinted across the room and sat on Collin's bed.

I bearly had time to sit before Collin came into the room carrying two orange popsicles.

"Hey, Spencer, my mum said you could stay for supper if you want," Collin said eagerly.

"I am sorry, my dad is having a dinner party that I must attend" I said grandly.

"Oh, okay" Collin said disapointed and slightly envious.

There was an awkward silence as we slirped our drippy popsicles. I don't like popsicles, they're too messy and childish for my taste but I ate it all just the same.

"COLLIN!" Mrs.Creevey hollered up the stairs, "You left the popsicle box on the counter!"

"Oops!" said Collin, "I'll be right back, Spencer."

Collin quickly hurried from the room, I could hear him pounding down the stairs. Glancing around to make sure he was gone, I got up and picked up the scarlet and gold album, that I had been looking at before. It was heavier than the others, I had some difficulty carrying

it over to Collin's cluttered desk. I shoved a side some camera attachments and set down the strange album.

For some strange reason, I held my breath as I opened the cover. Seeing no picture on the first page I flipped to next one. A gasp escaped me, the pictures before me were _moving_. It was like tiny television screens playing an ever changing movie. Fascinated and horrified at the same time, I looked at the first photograph. In it was a gleaming scarlet steam engine, parked in a platform. There were kids my age and older bustling around the platform. I removed the picture from its place on the page and looked behind it. There was no room for a computer chip or something to make the picture move.

_Thump! Thump! Thump!_

Hearing Collin coming up the stairs, I slammed the album shut and put it back where it belonged. I heard the door knob turn as I realized I still had the photograph of the gleaming red steam engine, in my hand. I had only just slipped it in my pocket as Collin entered the room again.

"Sorry about that Spence," Collin said as he closed his door.

"Thats fine, umm... Collin I have to umm... go home now... for my dad's dinner party" I said a little too nervously.

"But it's only two o'clock," Collin said suspiciously.

"Yeah, I know but er... I have to help my mom pick her outfit," which was true.

"I guess I'll see you later, then" Collin said sadly.

"Yeah, bye, then" I said wanting to get home quickly so I could examine the moving photograph.

As soon as I was outside, my family's limo pulled up to take me home. I loved how, Dawlish, our limo driver always knew when I wanted to be picked up, it was like was magic.


	2. Harry Potter's Trunk

**Chapter 2**

The limo ride seemed to take forever. It was as if the world was willing against me, so that I would never return home. _Well, _I thought smirking,_ I dont have to be home to look at the photo._ I asked Dawlish to raise the partition, separating him from me. When I knew it was fully raised, I took the picture from my pocket.

The steam engine was shinning in a way that was so inviting, that it made me desperately want to be part of the image. I was suprised at myself, whimsical thinking was not something I usually did. I thought myself too intelligent for that kind of thing.

As I contemplated where this fantastic train could be, one station

kept popping into my head. _The King's Cross Station,_ surely a train so grand would stop in London. Sadly, I noticed no train station I knew resembled the one in the photograph. Giving up on finding out the train's location, I tried to focus on the finer details in picture. That's when I saw the sign. The sign that told me the platform's number. My eyes widened as I read what the tiny sign had to say. _Platform nine and three quarters, _those words ran through my head, trying to reach a conculsion. My _train_ of thought was interupted by Dawlish pulling into the driveway and taking the keys out of the ignition. The door was abruptly opened and Dawlish smiled at me.

"Sir, we're here," he said strangely cheerful as if he wasn't really.

"Thank you" I said, distant.

I rushed inside and was immediatly ambushed by my mother, who was frantic over which shoes go with her lipstick. To me she could have worn sneakers for all I cared, I had more pressing matters to deal with. Telling my mother that her dark Channel heels would be smashing, I did something else that was very childish. I _ran_ up the stairs to my bedroom and locked the door.

My room is quite large and it is tastefully decorated. Sitting at a desk that most teachers would kill for, I took the picture out of my pocket. I realized that I was still wearing my coat, _what is happening, _I thought, _I am not myself today. _To me the photograph was like a treasure chest of mysteries just waiting for me to find the key and open it, if I could solve one of the small mysteries the rest would be answered. I was about to put the image down, when something caught my eye. A boy with jet black hair was dragging his large trunk across the platform with difficulty, while carrying a cage with a snowy owl in it. I watched him for a moment, trying to find a way to identify this strange boy. Then I saw it, _Harry Potter, _was written on the boy's trunk.


End file.
